To Cast a Shadow
by Mina3
Summary: Young Legolas percieves of a Shadow in GreenwoodGreat, while Glorfindel dares to prod Thranduil's heart.


To Cast a Shadow  
By Mina 

Following "Death of Ideals," a missing tale of Middle-Earth.  
(Now with nitpick help from self-professed Tolkien!Geek, Helga. ^_^ Thanks much.)  
(Replayed with, some time in October. ^_^;;) 

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Legolas was counted forty-three in the years of Men (quite young for an Eldar) when he first perceived of a Shadow in Greenwood the Great. 

He first spoke of it to his brother, Oropher, but was turned away with a smile and a pat on the head; Oropher was busy, after all, because the spiders had been encroaching deep into the realm of Amun Thranduil, and their father was beginning to anger at their impertience. 

He then went to Läurelas and Gilanël, but his sisters were busy as well, preparing for their upcoming visit to the Homely House of Imladris. He thought, perhaps, that he could ask Tíndomiel, but when he scratched on his eldest brother's door and was met with sounds of pleasure sobs and moans, he turned away with his ears burning, head bowed. 

Bridges to his siblings burned, as the saying went, he felt there was no one left to turn to. He didn't feel comfortable speaking of such insubstantial things with any of his father's retainers, and as for his father… It was pointless to bother his father with such things. Though he loved his father dearly, Thranduil had been angry of late---and Legolas did not like such clouds adorning his beloved father's brow. It was at times like this that Legolas wished he knew his true mother, for he was greatly in need of wise and gentle council, but his siblings never spoke of her and neither did Thranduil. 

He should actually be in bed, he mused, walking along the twisted-pine bower cover of the Hall of Stars. The starlight filtered through the entwined boughs, winking at him like tiny firefly lights in the vast night. Pausing briefly, he laid his hands against one of the great trunks, eyes fixed upon the bark as he sang a question to the tree and waited for answer. 

Flinching, he reeled away, landing hard on the packed dirt. His eyes were wide as he looked up at the tree, mouth open with heavy gasps. "No---! My poor Greenwood, what ails you?" 

"Young Legolas, why do you wander so late?" 

Looking wildly around him, Legolas found himself the focus of Horse Lord Glorfindel's worried grey gaze. He had not expected his father's guest to be wandering late as well. "I'm sorry to disturb you, my Lord; I could not sleep and was searching for inspiration." 

Glorfindel's smile was gentle, and Legolas liked the way he seemed to emit comfort. Gilanël's smile was the same, he realised; was it possible that Glorfindel was a relation of his mother's? That idea provided a tendril of comfort in and of itself. 

"You did not disturb me, shy heart." His hands were gentle as well as he helped Legolas to his feet, straightening his long robe and removing fallen leaves from his plait of sun-gold hair. "I, too, was merely looking for inspiration on this cold-shadowed night." 

"And what inspiration do you look for, Lord?" Legolas watched him with wide eyes, wondering at what could make a calm and assured Eldar lord seek solace in the growing shadows of Amun Thranduil. 

"Inspiration that would bring hope to this Doom and Shadow that weigh in my mind." 

Blinking, Legolas reached up to grasp Glorfindel's sleeve. "So you, too, can see the Shadow?" he whispered. 

Glorfindel's gentle smile remained in place as he picked Legolas up and settled him in comfort against his chest. The slow, steady thrum of Glorfindel's heart beneath Legolas' ear did much to sooth his fears. "Is that what troubles you, shy heart?" 

Legolas nodded, eyes once more drifting up to the starlight. "Father…I fear that Father's moods affect the growth of the Shadow, though it seems a strange thought to ponder when the Shadow lies far to the south of this place. He angers easily of late, and the Shadow pulses and writhes… Greenwood is frightened, Lord Glorfindel, and I, too, fear for what will come!" 

Arms held him as gently as the smile, and Legolas felt what remained of his fear and tension drain away. "Your father is a good man, shy heart; never doubt that!" 

Legolas nodded again, allowing Glorfindel to tuck his head under the Horse Lord's chin. He toyed absently with the loose strands of sun-gold hair that spilled over Glorfindel's shoulder and over him like a blanket; it was like his own hair, he mused, not silver-blonde like his siblings or father's. 

"I do love my father, Lord Glorfindel." He yawned, smiling sleepily up at Glorfindel when the elf looked at him in question. "And though I do not understand the creeping Shadow, though I fear for Greenwood, I will not fear for my father as long as he is loved. Greenwood speaks of love often…her trees whisper sweet songs, her soil speaking ballads, the creeks burbling sonnets---and the one they speak highest of is the Lord of Stars and Shadows." 

Glorfindel's smile became bright, bright as the Morning Star from which Legolas drew his heart name. "Wise words indeed, shy heart. Come now, let us get you to your chamber before you use me as a pillow." 

But his words fell on deaf ears, for Legolas had at last given in to his exhaustion, and was fast asleep in the arms of the Golden Lord of Imladris. 

**

~*~*~*~*~*~

**

"So you found him." 

Much as the smile he had gifted Legolas with earlier, Glorfindel smiled upon the King of Greenwood as he settled the king's youngest child into his too-large bed. "He was wandering the Hall of Stars, crying out in fear for Greenwood. It was a much familiar sight after seeing his father do the same earlier this evening." 

Humour was thick in Glorfindel's voice, and Thranduil cast him a narrow-eyed look briefly. After a moment he sighed, and Glorfindel could see that the years of isolation weighed heavily upon the heart and mind of the one who had become Silvan. "It is as I feared, then. He is the one that Greenwood promised. I wish it were otherwise, for he is very dear to my heart." 

Glorfindel pulled Legolas' braid out from under the coverlet, lest he tangle himself in his sleep. "It is easy for shy heart to be dear to one, Thranduil." 

The King of Greenwood sighed again, his hands falling upon Glorfindel's shoulders as he viewed his sleeping son. "Ai, Elbereth! I swear that I know not what to do, Glorfindel. Galadriel means to see her plan through to the end, but Middle-Earth desires to set her own course. And with the interference of Varda…" 

Glorfindel raised his hand, touching Thranduil's in comfort. "Elrond, too, fears what is to come. His Arwen already studies under the Golden Lady, and my lord fears what plans will befall her." 

"The choice of the children of Elwing and Eärendil will be hers as well." 

"Yes. And what better way to restore the line of kings then to eventually wed Arwen to a son of Elros?" 

Thranduil swore, and would have torn his hands away had Glorfindel not retained a steady grip. "I tire of such machinations! Already I have submitted to the will of Varda in all matters since the death of my father; already I sacrifice my love for anything other than the Woodland Realm; already I sacrifice my children! But it is their choice and the will of the Valar, not my own hand that pushes them." 

"Galadriel is blessed with wisdom and power, but I fear she is blinded by her own will. 'Tis a blessing that the great Ring has disappeared from Men, I feel." 

"Gone, forgotten---but not forever, Glorfindel. The Ring shall rise again, and it will take an alliance such as this Middle-Earth has never seen to see its end at last." 

"You fear to lose Legolas?" 

Following the gentle pull of Glorfindel's hands, Thranduil returned to his side, resting his head atop the sun-gold of Glorfindel's hair. "I fear I lost him the moment he was born. He is the green leaves, the foliage of Greenwood…her very heart. And I fear that Galadriel will sunder him from the realm in defiance of the gift of the Valar for my people. 

"We have lost no one to the sea-longing since my mother departed three hundred years ago. My people are tied now to Middle-Earth, to the Woodland Realm, and they know nothing of Lórien's fate. One day I shall lose Elrond Peredhil, Haldir March Warden, and my shield-brother Celeborn---even you, Horse Lord, will one day sail beyond me." 

"That is not now, though, my Lord. That time is in a distance that even Lady Galadriel cannot see in her mirror." 

"Is it truthfully? I fear that it is the Shadow of Mordor that has taken up home in my Greenwood, and I know that Lórien will not aid me in dispersing this evil. Shall I petition to Elrond for help, when Elrond already risks much in allowing my children to learn from Imladris, in allowing you to return to me here? And what of Celebrían? For all that she is beloved and trusted by Elrond, I trust nothing from the Golden Wood." 

"You fear us, Thranduil, we who were once your own kind." 

Thranduil cried out, burying his face before the sound could wake Legolas. "I fear nothing!" he hissed, silver eyes spitting fire. 

Glorfindel rose, viewing the quiet fire that was the majesty of King Thranduil. A finely-crafted net of mithril and gold caught the silver-blonde of his hair in fine twists and loops, loose vines and white star flowers trailing over his brow and down his cheeks while the shine of star sapphires lent blue fire to his alabaster skin. His long robe of silver and blue was a perfect complement, and as ever, Mirithil hung at his side. "If you fear nothing, my fair king, then why do you tremble?" 

"Because you are a shadow cast over me, and you snare me in your darkness without my realisation. Why else would I desire my children not to know the truth of their parentage?" 

Glorfindel merely smiled, taking a small step closer. "And of your kingdom, fair Thranduil. Do you fear for that as well?" 

Thranduil's eyes closed, and Glorfindel could see the trembling grow. "My kingdom, no; Greenwood will survive unto the ends of Middle-Earth. But I fear for my children." 

"Not yourself?" 

"Nay, I have nothing to fear in that regard. I made my choices with open eyes, and to fear them is to regret them---and I regret nothing!" 

Glorfindel tentatively touched the cool, pale cheek. Thranduil had once been a creature of trees and sunlight, but the Shadow of Greenwood and the shadows upon his heart had leeched those things from him until he was nothing more than fading moon and night. 

"If I am the shadow cast over you, fair one, then you are the one who cast me. And until the day your pale light ceases to shine, I shall continue by your side, loyal and patient, as I wait for you to become whole again." 

For the first time in his visit, Thranduil smiled, and Glorfindel's breath caught in his throat. "And if I should never become whole again? What then, Lord Honey-Tongue?" 

"Then I will wait until "never"---until the very end of time. You cannot deny me this right, Thranduil." 

And Thranduil's eyes opened, the moonlight of night spilling through his very being until Glorfindel was rapt. "It seems that I can deny you nothing, then." His smile was open and promising, and Glorfindel followed Thranduil from Legolas' room with a soaring heart. 

A Shadow was cast, yes, and Greenwood would be consumed, but as long as Greenwood's king could love freely, she would not surrender wholly to the dark. 

===============================================================

A/N: Tolkien left no [published] notation concerning the elves of Greenwood-Great other than the descendence of Oropher > Thranduil > Legolas. There is no mention of a mother for either Thranduil or Legolas; thus, any mention of "mothers" is pure conjecture on the part of myself. Also, the age of Legolas is conjecture as well, for his birth (and the birth of his father and grandfather) are never recorded in timeline. 

There is mention of kinship (if in "friendship" only) between Imladris and the House of Peredhil, and with Celeborn of the Golden Wood. It is known, as well, that Thranduil has no love of Celeborn's wife, though Tolkien never explained the reason for this. 


End file.
